あっての (Atte no)
by Yui Miyamoto
Summary: A 24-year-old Victor goes to Tokyo Tower and receives a pleasant surprise…


**Fandom: Yuuri on Ice!  
Title: ****あっての** **.** **(Atte no.)  
Pairing: Victor + Yuri, Yuuri + Victor  
Rating: PG  
Description: A 24-year-old Victor goes to Tokyo Tower and receives a pleasant surprise… **

**Disclaimer: Yuuri on Ice doesn't belong to me, but the poem does. I just love it so that's why we're here!**

No matter how much I stare into the mirror,  
it only reflects, doesn't create, replicating away into oblivion.

As I seethe and writhe on the ground,  
all my passion enwraps me,  
crushing me further,  
holding me down  
of my own Volition.

The sun burns my eyes as I stare off to the future.  
For as many as there are presented to me,  
the box I open determines the next rabbit hole.

I can never return on the merry-go-round,  
the revolution already  
in procession of its bitter rotations.

The fruit of all my labors laid beside me,  
that exhausting day pounding  
onto the contours of my heart until submerged.

Pushing on the ice with my gloves,  
I don't want to touch anyone,  
don't want their stolen judgments from their colorless "life" catalogues.

Flipping through, I was never so satisfied with the selection,  
to take an outfit someone else had manufactured for me,  
a cubicle face with no need for a name,  
my id# good enough.  
Wearing identical clothing,  
following a mindless path,

Of course you wouldn't get me.  
I did exactly what I wasn't supposed to.

I ripped those pages,  
put them on the ground for you to pick up  
to figure out on your own.

Gossip all you want  
but your boredom won't make up for  
Time or Knowledge.  
It certainly won't fill in for

your lack of character.

So I'll keep on carving my skates  
with that musical flare  
engraving the sound of my soul  
into your already closed-off ears,  
shouting, "Never say die."

 **あっての** **.** **(Atte no.)  
By Miyamoto Yui**

Bite.

I clench my jaw, feeling the tightness of invisible teeth ripping through my chest.

Gnaw gnaw gnaw...

"Ah, yes." A business grin flashes into default mode, my half-closed eyes dimly watch the slippery tile path.

Chomp.

It was to be expected, but that human trait somehow still pushes itself forward to the surface of my skin: Hope.  
Contrary to previous instances, this is probably their best record for consecutive rejections. Like ghosts floating over me with periodic whispers into my ear, they always manage to slip through my longing fingers. Foolishly though, I still try to grab their transparent shapes.

Since this World Championship was held in the Saitama Super Arena, the train ride here offers my only solace. The Takasaki and Yamanote lines temporarily lock out my anger and insecurities.  
After all, you can't call me there.

Clenching my fist, I walk out of the World Trade Center connected to Hamamatsucho Station.

 _/Once she said to me, "You should protest."/  
_ Do I bitch or don't? It depended on their selfish whim of the day. And just talking to them gives me not only a headache, my whole body feels drained.

Chew. Spit out.

"I'm sorry, Victor. We'll have to cancel because a business associate…"  
My mind switches off as I wait for the appropriate timing to end the call all together. Smiling wider and wrier, I catch a glimpse of my face on some café window. I immediately turn away, the misery of my heart dropping piece by piece to the sidewalk with every tap of my shoes.  
In a calm stride towards the shining scarlet tower ahead, I hold the phone loosely against my ear.

Similar scenes flicker before me like old movie frames. All our lives, this Ferris wheel cycle of anticipation and disappointment continues without restraints, with no chance of getting off for a breather.

 _/I watched them don on an evening gown and a tuxedo. After Father tugged on my bowtie, the chauffeur drove us to some family friend's party._

 _They'd left me alone at the party with total strangers as soon as I was fed, telling me to wander around and look at decorations or play with the other children. That was easy for them to say because they didn't really see me outside of my training./_

When I'd traded sneakers for skates, I was joined to Yakov. In between the sparkles of interviews and princely waves, jealous murmurs were sure to follow behind in the shadows.

In other words, outside of skating, I didn't know what to do.

 _/Whether or not the host knew I was attending, while handing out presents, I sat there patiently waiting. It would be nice to get something besides an envelope of money to buy whatever I wanted.  
Skipping over me, everyone was handed a lavishly bowed box. Another envelope reached my hands with an apology sans explanation. _

_At age eight, I'd realized I'd always be treated 'differently'.  
And what I wanted couldn't be bought no matter how many envelopes people brought me._

 _While heading home, my mother said goodbye from the window to her friends. Turning to me, she asked, "Did you have fun? I saw you playing with…"  
Learning to smile in that certain lackluster zirconic way, I wondered why my own parents hadn't noticed my dejection. _

_Ironically, the week I'd returned back to practice, an interviewer asked me, "You've been dubbed the next hopeful for the junior division, did you know that?"  
Holding onto the rim of Yakov's home rink, I shook my head.  
"But you don't look like you've even sweated on the ice today! You're amazing!"  
"Thank you very much."  
"Tell me, why do you work so hard for someone so young?"  
Enigmatically, I showed my teeth to the camera, flustered like I didn't quite know what to answer.  
But deep inside, I knew._

 _"I love skating and it loves me."/_

These large stacks of inconsistencies intertwine with minuscule amounts of family hours. Because of that, teetering on many near misses towards almost forgetting my birthday, eventually it'd fall, wouldn't it?

Well, it does today. They've forgotten already why we're supposed to meet today.

 _You're old enough. You're mature enough_. The mantra I've been telling myself since I tied my own blades together in first grade, not understanding that I'd already cut my own ankles. Even while throbbing, I performed my best.  
My parents got used to being praised, that I was some kind of 'genius'…

…until it was taken for granted.

I didn't ever feel that way about myself, no matter how many times I bowed with a new routine, long hair or short.

Passing under a gorgeous structure called Shiba Daimon Gate, I regret not being able to take a picture.

As always, women have that instinct to know when your mind is wandering especially when they're not watching. Catching me off-guard, she jests to test me, "Jealous?"  
"Of eating with the Minister? Of course, Mother.," I retort with a polite laugh.

December. January. February. You've canceled on me three times before this. The fact that you don't even think twice or even make an effort to make up for it is what really bothers me. To top it all off, you act like I shouldn't be mad. That's unreasonably…

…cruel.

I've known this a long time ago: "You're not a priority."

Red.  
I stop at the end of the street to find a closed temple while fiddling with the end of my scarf. My fingerless gloves pull on tips of cashmere.

Not knowing what to get me, they'd phoned a shop I'd bought souvenirs from in the past. Coincidentally, it was my favorite brand in Japan (of course they did not know) and they had it delivered in a white box with a silk blue ribbon to my hotel room.  
I wanted to hate it, but as I carefully held the bright red scarf in mid-air, I just couldn't. Like magic, with a flick of the wrist, I found out it was reversible. Scattered off-white sakura petals softly adorned the black background on the other side.  
At least they'd been listening when I said I'd taken some Japanese conversation classes.

Even as a consolation prize, the scarf was elegant and surprisingly warm.

However, any sentimentality I held quickly snowed over when I picked up the familiar card with the secretary's handwriting on it. I should know. I'd dated him before. At least at that time, I knew where they'd been spirited off to in the world.

Green…  
Crossing to the other side of the street, I turn right and left into a narrow street where the Tower hides beyond the leaves of trees.

"I'll call you again next week."  
Even in a doctor's mask and fake glasses, I finally have a full view of the symbol of Tokyo. "Goodbye, Mother, I'll talk to you later."

Clicking the phone off, I look endearingly at my destination. I've always wanted to come here. I didn't get to the last time the championships were held here in 2007.

Buying a ticket at the counter, I ask for one that goes all the way up to the special observatory. They give me a curious second glance, but before I'm forced to answer their suspicions, I walk up the nearest staircase to hide in the bathroom. Making sure nothing gives me away, I adjust my whole outfit and walk around the second floor to browse the souvenir shops.

 _/Playfully, I joked as I dropped him at his hotel room. "Before we leave, want to go to Tokyo Tower at sunset?"_

 _"Some special event happening?" He retorted with the same perturbed expression I'd become familiar with. It was a different shade from the cute pissed off one he had when he was little, before puberty hit and I was still allowed to pinch his cheeks.  
"I missed it the last time I was here," I grimaced.  
The 13-year-old yawns while eyeing me skeptically. "All the way there *yawn* before heading to Narita?"  
"Why not?"  
But before he could even answer, I interrupted and touched the top of his head. "Forget about it. I just remembered you had your 'Must do list' with Yakov."  
"Yeah." He blinked at me and held his hand up before entering his room. "'Night then."  
"Good night, Yuri."_

 _The door closed without any hesitation and my fist lightly touched it before I turn around to leave.  
Stupid me./_

I eye a sleek black sukajan with a baby snow leopard climbing on the back like a beautifully embroidered tattoo. Biting my lip, I stop myself from chuckling.

 _/"Mr. Victor! Look! I can finally do a triple flip like you!" His hands pulled on the ends of my red sports jacket and tips of my hair.  
Beaming up at me with a sweet smile, I found myself stopping my hand from touching his cheek. Instead, I patted his back while looking down at his happy face. _

_For the first time in my life, I'd smirked to the point my face actually hurt./_

"If I ever bought this, he'd kill me."  
Moving on, I clear my throat while shaking my head.

For once, I want someone to run after me. To tell me I am their number one. And it wouldn't be because of endorsements or other ulterior motives.

For, to, and from them, I can just be myself.

 _/As I was wiping my face with a towel, in the corner of my eye there was someone behind me. I knew who he was. I'd been watching him closely on the monitors ever since he'd debuted._

 _Katsuki Yuuri-san..._

 _The Japanese representative was staring at me, thinking he was out of my range of vision. I was used to people fervently approaching me or watching me from afar, but there was something charming about that boy._

 _In that split second, we were the only ones in that world. I took off the rubber band from my hair and it fell down to my waist._

 _Half of his body was hidden, his hand holding onto the make-shift curtain door while blushing._

 _I'd turned around to greet him, but he'd already disappeared._

 _When you become properly sharpened and polished, you'll know how to attack…_

 _Right then, I'd decided to learn Japanese./_

"I guess that's impossible."

Before going back downstairs to ride the elevator, I find two popular characters who are alien lovers. One yellow and one green. I squat down to get a better glimpse of a hanging silver keychain and poke their adorably pudgy figures.

 _/The night before the 2007 World Championships, I'd somehow convinced Yakov to go sightseeing in Shibuya since it was close to Sendagaya. After making some suit purchases, we passed by a character goods shop in 109 Men's Mall. I immediately spotted the stack of alien lovers notebooks and brought them to the counter to buy every single one.  
"You actually like those things?" Yakov asked with one eyebrow raised slightly as we walked out of the shop.  
_

 _Everyone has their guilty pleasures._

 _"They caught my eye." I played off his remark while going to the escalator.  
Shaking his head, it was another episode of my alter ego, the idiotic one left out of the sports world magazines.  
Like always, as the keeper of my many secrets, Yakov kept his thoughts to himself./ _

The truth was that I loved them simply because they were two. I liked pairs ever since I was a child. Ridiculously, I envied them.

"At least they would never be by themselves," I mumble to myself.

Even if I had to lie, in full denial, I would never admit that to anyone.

"What's that dorky stare for?"

Gasping, I take my finger away from the keychain and stand straight up. Looking from side to side, I don't see his figure.

Am I hallucinating?

"Turn around."  
My ears already recognize his exasperated sigh.

I do as he says, but it plays in slow motion in my eyes. Everything becomes silent as I take a long drawn out breath and blink incredulously at the blond boy before me. He uncrosses his arms in a feigned humph.  
He covers part of his embarrassed face, scratching his head in irritation. Yuri sneaks a quick look at me in between his fingers. But I already feel the pressure of heat on the rims of my eyes. The hollowness left inside my chest resuscitates itself with each throb.

Incomprehensible gibberish translates from my mangled thoughts. "You…how…why?"  
"You asked me, didn't you?"  
"I said it as a joke."  
"Well, you're lucky it was part of my list."

It's the same every time, isn't it? Whenever I feel I want to become close, I'll immediately pull away, even if my hand is still reaching out.

I shouldn't, I tell myself every damn time, but…

"What are you waiting around for?! C'mon! We don't have much time!" Yuri pouts and pulls on my wrist to go downstairs. I stare at his golden hair as we're ushered into a metal square perimeter and then finally to an open elevator.

Detonating away, I feel like I'll combust at any second.

With each floor upwards, the blinding sun peeking in between the steel beams is fading away slowly into a single streak of soft glowing light. While taking pictures of every direction of the main observatory deck, tints of the cerulean sky dyes itself into paintbrush strokes of apricot and rouge.  
So by the time we get to the special observatory, like a book of spells about to close with two hands on either side of it, the sun vanishes in the middle. All that is left are specks of white puffs and cobalt swirling into lapis.

All the while, we haven't said anything to each other. One word might undo this perfect moment.

Watching something that I've only imagined about overwhelms me in more ways than I could ever describe. I'm so moved, I almost cried right then and there.

"This was pretty cool," Yuri comments as his profile faces me. His arms cross over the railing as he admires the white bridge sprinkling in colors before us.

Who'd have thought the imp who'd clung onto my legs when he first started his training with Yakov and later slapped my hand away when we became rivals would be next to me in a foreign country fulfilling one of my lifelong dreams?

"Where is Yakov anyway?"  
"Downstairs waiting for us."

Of course, the sands of this magical hourglass have finally run out.

"Let's go home, Yuri."

We walk down the corridor and stairs so that we could catch the elevator for the first floor.

Halfway there and miraculously alone, Yuri comments happily, "Yay! I'm taller than you if I stand here."  
"Yes, yes. I don't know why you always have to announce it every single time we pass some stairs. "  
"Hey…" He taps my shoulder from behind. His voice whispers in my ear, "Victor."  
"What?"  
Abruptly stopping, I turn my head but as I do so, the little monster pulls on my face mask, kisses me on the mouth and runs down past me as it snaps back into place.  
"It's 'cause it's true!"

Without any expression, he holds up a victory sign. My jaw drops as I find myself running after him, again laughing despite myself. "Hey~!"

Because he's caught by the line to the elevator, I hug him from behind, unable to speak. He is finally at a height that I can embrace him like this…

"Let me go!" he wails in protest.  
"No." I shake my head as the tears finally come out and soak onto his back. "Never."  
His shoulders stiffen at my serious response.

 _/We had a small gathering without Yuri knowing it was my birthday._

 _There was a small pine tree I'd decorated in my apartment and while Maccachin was napping, Yakov went to the kitchen to get some coffee. As Yuri was waiting for his grandfather to pick him up, he was trying to show me a jump but accidentally tapped the tree.  
I tried to save the glass icicle ornament Yuri had made for me, but the star on the top smashed into jagged fragments on the wooden floor._

 _Holding out my arm, I scolded, "No, don't pick it up or else you'll cut yourself!"  
"What if you miss a piece, Mr. Victor?" He squatted to the floor to put the shards into his gloved hands._

 _Stubbornly, he wouldn't listen to me no matter what I said./_

 **+++/+++/+++**

On the plane ride, Yuri's head listlessly lands against my shoulder. Sleeping away between Yakov and myself, I push the flaxen threads of hair away from his face.  
Yakov is reading a newspaper and I'm on my phone watching recaps of last night's competition. Katsuki-san's face flashes before me, getting ready for the triple axel, double toe loop combination. Even though he falls, electricity radiates even from his fingertips. Holding my breath for most of the second half of the long program, he nails it.

Like a katana, he slashes through for the kill leaving no prisoners.

Excited, my lips curl upwards as I tap to repeat his performance for the fifth time that night. I can't get enough of it.

I'll be waiting for you.

 **+++/+++/+++**

I clutch onto the handle of my luggage, wave goodbye to Yakov and Yuri, and head towards my waiting taxi.  
But I hear footsteps running after me. "Victor!"

"Yes?"  
Surprising me yet again, he holds his hand out to me. "I forgot this."  
I catch a glimpse of the item before it drops into my palm. It's the keychain I'd touched in Tokyo Tower.  
"When-"  
"We were already there way before you came."  
Before he dashes off, I grab his cheeks like in the old days, my leather gloves pressing onto his jaw. Kissing his forehead, with all my heart I say, "Thank you."

With flushed cheeks, he escapes to go to his grandfather waiting outside.

I stand there for a moment to see if he'll glance back. He used to look behind him to make sure I wouldn't disappear. It was as if he knew what I was thinking: There's nothing else for me but skating.

For a brief moment as he runs through the automatic doors, he grins back at me.

"I guess I was wrong," my voice cracks knowing I'll really cry if I smile back.

Walking forward, I put on my sunglasses and confidently hold my head up before the mess of reporters that are waiting beyond the gate.

Now I know that somewhere along the way, while scraps of my heart were being slaughtered off,

I don't know how,  
but those boys covertly picked them up,

and before my very eyes,

devoured them whole.

Hunted, it's only a matter of time until  
both of them will consume me  
entirely.

And I won't mind it  
because by then,

I don't think I'll feel it at all.

 **Owari./The End.**

 **Author's notes:** I didn't know I still had it in me to write a draft in an hour. I'd been stuck for a few months, writing a ton of fics on paper but not onto the computer. I'd get half way through and then stop to try a new one for another fandom. This one came out of nowhere, rammed itself into my consciousness, and took my attention in a snap.

I hope you enjoyed it!

I love Yuuri and Victor together, but the stronger image that came out for this one was Yuri. I totally ship this threesome though! :) Now how to make a fic for that to happen…

Belated Happy Birthday, Victor! 3

Love,

Yui

あっての – which can exist solely due to the presence of; whose existence is determined entirely by; which owes everything to (according to Jim Breen's dictionary).

1/5/2018 4:13:26 PM – Los Angeles

1/6/2018 9:13:26 AM – Tokyo


End file.
